Picture Perfect
by Kokolo
Summary: Lorenzo wants to know Alan better, and what better way to do that than watch him do the thing he loves best? It might not be the most interesting thing in the world, but who knows what will develop. Alan x Lorenzo.


**Yep. Need to bother them again. It's been too long, and I need adorable angstfluff to distract me from actual work. What better pairing to turn to than Alan and Lorenzo?**

**Enjoy!**  


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It was still early. Lorenzo realized he wasn't usually up this early – in fact he'd never be up this early on his own. But, looking around, he realized it was actually rather calm for a change. The cars hadn't started swarming the streets yet – they had crossed the street without needing to look both ways, even crossed entire intersections without a problem. Nothing was open save a few diners, there was no one around save a few homeless people, and it felt like the city had become a ghost town.

Alan, however, seemed unmoved.

In fact Lorenzo wasn't even really that sure if Alan had wanted him to come. They had been sitting in his room one evening, relaxing on they Redman boy's bed. Suddenly Lorenzo had sat up and began walking around, perusing the many photographs and collages like he was in a museum. Alan wondered aloud what he was doing and ended up opening the floodgates. Lorenzo asked him question after question, piling on heaps of praise. Alan took it in stride (if not in an exceedingly humble way), and finally jokingly remarked about taking him along to see how it was done.

Lorenzo took it as a challenge.

Though hesitant, he coerced Alan into setting up a scheduled outing. Alan had mumbled a few times that it wasn't how he usually did it but Lorenzo seemed to wear him down, and they finally agreed on a date and time. So now they were here, wandering around uptown on foot even though Lorenzo had offered Peter's services. Though confused he knew Alan knew best when it came to this sort of thing.

So Lorenzo had followed wordlessly, afraid to break the peace while Alan walked tirelessly onwards and upwards, toward one of the many bridges. It wasn't even sunrise yet – though Lorenzo assumed that was what Alan wanted to attempt to photograph. He had one of his many cameras – which one and what lens he couldn't even begin to explain. He was just happy to follow, to see another side of the secretive boy.

"Almost there." Alan turned to him, smiling some. "You… don't have to do this."  
"Why not?" Lorenzo shrugged "I want to know more."

Alan left it at that, turning back around quickly and hastening his pace. For some reason Lorenzo couldn't shake the notion he'd made the other boy turn a bit red. Why or how, exactly, he wasn't sure. But he obediently followed the other male to the bridge, quietly observing. Alan checked over his shoulder a few times, almost saying something but not quite working up the nerve to do so. He just kept climbing, Lorenzo ever obediently following him.

Lorenzo almost plowed into the photographer when he stopped short. Alan peeked over his shoulder, holding his camera aloft shyly. Lorenzo backed off, folding his hands behind him, waiting. Alan stared at him.

"Ah…"  
"Oh, don't mind me." Lorenzo said, smiling at him "Do what you do."  
"I… I don't know if-"  
"You can do it. I know you can – I'm sure it'll be great!"

Again Lorenzo noted the significant coloring in Alan's cheeks. The other male dropped his gaze to the floor and fiddled with the lens, rattling off what he was hoping to get and what lens he was using and what camera and shutter speed. Lorenzo didn't understand a word of it but he was happy to have Alan talking, even if it wasn't directly at him. Lorenzo smiled and nodded at all the right places, hoping that would make Alan look at him. No such luck, but Alan at least opened up and lifted the camera, climbing up onto the higher rungs of the bridge rail, taking his place and waiting for a long while.

Just before Lorenzo asked him what he was waiting for, the young photographer snapped to attention and started taking picture after picture.

It was quite interesting, watching Alan work. The intense concentration, the way he bent his body to capture the right shot. Most of all Lorenzo admired the patients. For a while Alan just stood, still and waiting, for a good half an hour before he quickly started taking photograph after photograph. It all happened so fast- Lorenzo was almost started by the ferocity of it.

Alan stopped as suddenly as he started. He wasn't sure why – if he ran out of film or if he just didn't see the thing he wanted to see anymore. Alan seemed winded by the whole thing. He took a few breaths and turned, stepping back with a start. Lorenzo smiled kindly- Alan had forgotten he was here. However, Alan had this look, this _something_ in his stance or eyes or even in that tiny smile that wasn't characteristic of him. He looked so… blissful. And that made Lorenzo smile stupidly, seeing him finally _finally_ simply _happy_ for once.

"What?" Alan asked, "Is there something the matter?"  
"It's just… I don't think I've ever seen you so happy."

Almost instantly the happiness waned from Alan's face. Lorenzo almost rushed forward to put it back but stopped, realizing that would be silly. He smiled at Alan, hoping that would coax that complacency back to his face. Sadly, Alan had returned to neutrality, and he looked down at his camera, fiddling with it. Lorenzo sighed but backed off. He couldn't force Alan to be happy. He could try to make him happy as best as he could, but he couldn't force him.

But then Alan smiled at him again, and Lorenzo found himself suddenly overjoyed.

"I… think I… You hungry?" Alan muttered.  
"Yeah. I could go for something."  
"Great! I mean… ah." He cleared his throat and secured his equipment for the fifth time. "I… know a place around here. They have pretty good food and-"  
"Sounds great."

He offered his hand to help Alan down. He took it, hesitating on the rail's edge. Lorenzo squeezed his hand reassuringly, holding out his other arm to show he could catch Alan if he slipped. He was rewarded with a shaky, grateful smile. Alan stepped down after a moment, dependent on Lorenzo's steady hand.

He didn't let go.

It was a little odd, yes, but it didn't bother him. Lorenzo actually felt himself smiling a bit. It was rather nice, feeling Alan's cool, long-fingered hands in his. Alan was too busy looking anywhere but at him, his eyes settling at the point where they joined together. Lorenzo thought maybe that Alan stopped breathing for a moment, but then the thin fingers closed around his tightly enough to be almost desperate. Lorenzo tilted his head, but Alan didn't look at him.

They walked on, hand in hand, with Alan leading the way. Neither one of them said anything about it, and to be honest they weren't that concerned. There was no one out this early, and anyone who was wouldn't know them from any other citizens. Not that it mattered. While Alan was trying to divide his attention between not walking into them into the path of a taxicab and looking at their joined hands every five seconds, Lorenzo was much more focused on getting food. He was thinking pancakes.

"I…" Alan started, some blocks away from the bridge.  
"It's okay." Lorenzo assured "I don't mind."

It was true. He didn't mind. He wasn't sure why he didn't mind, but he didn't and that seemed to make Alan happy. Seeing Alan happy made Lorenzo happy. He supposed it was just that simple. Lorenzo smiled at Alan. Alan smiled back, albeit nervously. He tugged on their hands and led him down a few side streets. Lorenzo could see the halogen lights of the restaurant and a few patrons inside already. He turned to ask Alan if that was the place.

Alan kissed him.

It was a chaste, impulsive, tiny little thing. It didn't even hit his mouth right. But Lorenzo stopped like he'd been shot. Alan recoiled, wrenching his hand back, both of them flying to his camera, his camera flying up to shield his face. Lorenzo, struck dumb for a few minutes, moved mechanically. He pulled the camera gently from Alan's scrunched up terrified face. He cupped Alan's cheek in his free hand, stroking it gently. He leaned in and kissed Alan back, just as simple and little as the once Alan gave him.

It was Alan's turn to be floored. He had expected anything – a hit, a nervous laugh, nothing at all – but he hadn't expected to be reciprocated. He blinked owlishly at Lorenzo, even more so at the soft smile that tugged the corners of his mouth upward and the hand slipping back into it's place. Lorenzo didn't say a word after it about it. He defaulted to mundane topics, all of which Alan answered dutifully, his mind reeling all the while. Lorenzo kept his hand safe in his grasp nearly the whole time – only letting go to cut up and eat his pancakes. How he ate that many -or even at all after what happened- Alan could never figure out. The most he could do was nibble at his omelette.

He began to realize slowly that Lorenzo had no idea what he did affected him so much. Alan thought that, maybe, if he had kissed Lorenzo on the bridge it would have meant something, or at least something more. Maybe if he'd leaned up and kissed him there after shooting – or even instead of shooting all those pictures he would have gotten the other male to melt into him. It would have been perfect, the way Lorenzo would hold him up and kiss him back, drawing him close and making him feel wonderful. They'd kiss and hold each other and fall to the ground and make passionate love to each other right there on the bridge and then they'd fly off to Milan and get married and he'd be a famous photographer and Lorenzo would be his everything and they'd have a perfume named after them something like "Alenzo" or "Loran" and everything would be so perfect he could die the next day and he'd have no regrets except maybe he didn't have more time to love Lorenzo as absolutely as he could.

But Alan was loath to complain. He was just reciprocating, as he always did. But Alan wouldn't dare say a word. He'd rather be quietly elated than have the slightest hope of _them_ dashed forever by a good-natured laugh and a shake of his head. Alan would much rather pretend, regardless of the hollow pangs replacing heartbeats in him. So he smiled back. He laughed along. He was happy, if only slightly so. He had more than enough reason to be, after all.

There might be flaws in the development, it might be horribly posed or staged, but at least for the time being, between mouthfuls of egg and coffee, they were picture perfect.  


* * *

**Aw. Alan. Stop being so sad and start being happy. Here have some of Lorenzo's pancakes he'll give you some.**

**Thanks for reading!**


End file.
